


They Call Me Captain Mom

by StormySteady



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Awkwardness, Established Relationship, M/M, MamaDaichi?, Secret Relationship, lovable idiots
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-26
Updated: 2015-01-26
Packaged: 2018-03-09 03:44:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,715
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3235040
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StormySteady/pseuds/StormySteady
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Suga and Daichi make out in the gym's supply closet. This decision proves exactly as injudicious as it sounds. </p><p>(Or, the story of that one time Daichi had to take over the role of “team mom” for a few minutes while a half-naked Suga just kinda hid in the corner and giggled)</p>
            </blockquote>





	They Call Me Captain Mom

Daichi had woken up that morning with a spring in his step and high hopes for how much he might be able to accomplish during the day. He had gotten up to date with his studies over the weekend, so he should have enough time to finish any new assignments without too much difficulty. The rain that had been sweeping through the town recently had finally broken, making it possible to finish the yard work that his mom had been hounding him about for weeks. And, since the third years had been granted a rare study period that afternoon during which they didn’t need to report to their regular classes, he also had some extra time to spend doing volleyball club stuff before practice started. He figured that would be the perfect opportunity to go over some of the training regimens that the coach had given to him, and also to finally finish inventorying the club’s belongings so that Kiyoko would know what to order for next year. 

So yes, there had been quite a few things on Sawamura Daichi’s to-do list for that rainy Monday. But he was certain that making out with Suga in the volleyball club’s supply closet had _not_ been one of them.

Daichi couldn't quite remember how this turn of events had come to pass. Although the pair of them had been dating since time immemorial and were by no means strangers to the art of sneaking discreet kisses on school property, there had always been a tacit agreement that volleyball spaces were off-limits. There were many eminently reasonable reasons for this, and Daichi tried to list them all in his head as Suga's lips started traveling from Daichi’s mouth to his jaw to the muscles of his neck. 

For starters, the team still didn’t know about their relationship, and at least for the time being, the two of them wanted to keep it that way. It wasn’t as if Daichi thought that his teammates would _shun_ them or anything if they found out about it. To be honest, he would be surprised if at least Asahi and Kiyoko hadn’t figured it out it already, considering certain indiscretions that may or may not have been committed during their first year in the club. But still. Their team’s strength that year was approaching an all-time high, and he didn’t want any drama or discomfort, no matter how unlikely it might be, to jeopardize that.

Secondly, Daichi continued (ignoring the way that Suga had just shifted his weight forward to effectively pin him against the wall), he doubted that he _himself_ would be able to handle it if their volleyball lives and personal lives got too mixed up. How would he be able to pay attention during games if everything around him brought back memories of Suga, and of Suga’s body pressed against his, and of all the things they did together? When he was in this gym, he needed to be Karasuno's captain, not the pathetic lovesick sop he was everywhere else. He needed to hold on to what little bit of pride he had left.

And third... well, there had probably been a third reason at some point, but he had forgotten it right around the time when Suga's mouth reached the fleshy part of his shoulder and began to nibble. 

Daichi grit his teeth, forcing down the flames that sprung up in his belly. "Seriously, Koushi,” he breathed, trying to sound firm, failing. “This… this isn’t the place. We can't do this here."

"I know,” Suga drew back for a moment, brown eyes sparkling as he shot Daichi a mischievous grin. Daichi swallowed hard. Things never ended well for him when Suga made that face. “That’s why it’s exciting.”

”But what if somebody comes in? School has to be almost over by now; the rest of the team-"

Suga shut him up with a kiss, warm and wet. "We've still got a few minutes, don't worry,” his boyfriend assured him. “And since we’re here anyway, there’s no reason not to make the most of it.” He leaned up and gave Daichi another kiss, firmer this time, and let his hands sneak up under his t-shirt.

Daichi felt his body heat up even further, and he realized, with the kind of fear one feels when riding in a car whose brakes have failed, that he was starting to get hard. If he was ever going to work up the willpower to do the right thing and escape Suga’s clutches, it would need to be _now._ Right now, before this feeling got the chance to grow any further. 

He gave his boyfriend a shove, not realizing how half-hearted the action was until it failed to budge him a single centimeter. “Come _on_ , Koushi,” he murmured. “What’s gotten into you?”

“Nothing’s gotten _into_ me. I’ve just… ah, I’ve always wondered what it would be like to do it here.” A second later, Daichi felt a jolt of electricity as Suga slid their bodies even closer together, which intensified by a factor of ten or a hundred as his boyfriend moaned into his mouth. “Mm, you feel so good. Daichi…”

And that was the definitive moment when Daichi realized that he was too far gone to resist. He was hard as hell, and had an unrepentant minx of a boyfriend who could control him with just a smile, and he was going to have to accept these things if he ever wanted to move on with his life. 

He sighed a sigh of surrender and let go, finally allowing his arms to come up and encircle the tight-muscled body in front of him. “ _Koushi…_ ”

There wasn’t much talking for a while after that, as their lips continued to kiss and their hands continued to rove. Suga’s shirt was lost somewhere in the commotion, a casualty of the two boys’ quest to get closer and closer, and for a moment it looked like Daichi’s shorts were fixing to go down the same road. But then suddenly, they heard a sound, and both of their hearts skipped a beat at the same time. 

Somebody had just come into the gym. And by the way their footfalls grew louder by the second, they seemed to be approaching the supply closet.

For a second, Daichi and Suga just stared at each other, eyes wide in terror. 

“I didn’t lock the door,” Daichi whispered.

“Oh.”

…

The leap that Suga took behind a nearby pile of boxes would have made an Olympic diver jealous.

Daichi, for his part, was not as quick-thinking. He had barely even managed to sidestep behind their cart of volleyballs, shielding the tent in his pants from public scrutiny, before the door creaked open to reveal a certain grumpy first year.

“Sugawara-san? Are you- oh. Hello captain.”

"Um, hello Kageyama," Daichi said, forcing his face into a poor approximation of nonchalance. "You're, uh, you're early today, aren't you?"

Kageyama fixed him with a blank expression. "Not particularly." His eyes made a brief sweep of the rest of the closet before returning to Daichi. "Is Sugawara-san around?" he asked, voice impatient. "I thought I saw him walking over here earlier."

Daichi could feel a drop of sweat running down his face. He wanted to wipe it off, but, at the same time, he didn’t want to draw attention to its presence. So in the end he just kind of let it sit there, like a salty badge of awkwardness. ”If he's around, I haven't seen him. Maybe he's in the clubroom?"

"He's not. I was just there."

"Oh."

During the silence that ensued, Daichi dared a quick peek over to the mound of supplies that Suga had found his naked solace in. For a split-second reaction made in a moment of panic, his boyfriend’s choice of hiding place had been surprisingly shrewd. Somebody looking at the pile from the direction of the door, as Kageyama was, would only see their net leaning in its usual position against the wall, propped up by a couple of old cardboard boxes. From where Daichi stood by the back wall, it was of course a different story- _he_ could see most of Suga's body, in particular the lobster-like blush that spread from his ears to his chest, visible even behind the hands that he was burying his face in. But this was well outside of Kageyama’s line of vision right then. 

Realizing this, Daichi let himself relax a little bit. Letting out the breath that he had been holding since he’d first become aware of the first year’s approach, he leaned forward against the cart of volleyballs. 

"So, why are you looking for Suga? Do you need help with something?"

Kageyama shot him a look. "It's not like I need _help_. I just… wanted to ask him a question." His eyes strayed over again to the far corners of the closet. "You're sure you haven't seen him? Was he in school today?"

"Yeah, he was in class, but I don't know where he went after that. I don't even know for sure if he's coming to practice.” Daichi was probably trying too hard to play it cool. He acknowledged this. But in his fear-addled brain right then, it seemed like a better idea to deny all ties to Suga than seem suspiciously close to him.

Kageyama bit his lip in concentration, still refusing to look at Daichi straight-on. "Well, if Sugawara-san really might not be coming today, maybe you could help…" He let the sentence dangle, gritting his teeth as if what he was preparing to say next caused him physical pain.

Then, he took in a deep breath, closed his eyes, and let out the fastest stream of human speech that Daichi had ever heard.

"SoIskippedlunchtodaytopracticevolleyballoutsideandIgotmyballstuckinatreeandeventhoughI'vetriedeverythingIstillcan'tgetitout."

Kageyama caught his breath and then glared at Daichi, as if daring him to laugh.

Daichi didn't know what he had been expecting Kageyama's problem to be, but it certainly hadn’t been _that_. Baffled, he snuck another look at Suga, as if his huddled, shadowy form could provide any insight into the matter. But his boyfriend just raised his eyebrows and rapidly circled his hand, a clear signal that Daichi should get a move on before the two of them were caught. Daichi sighed. It looked like he would have to think his way out of this mess on his own.

So, first order of business: clarify what the mess even _was._ ”So you're saying.... you got your volleyball stuck in a tree?"

Kageyama nodded. "One of the tall trees near the road. I was practicing my tosses there, and I guess I hit the ball too hard, and… it got stuck."

Daichi creased his brow, trying to remember if he had ever been in a similar situation in the past. "Well, have you tried throwing a shoe at it or something? Or climbing up and getting it?"

His suggestion was met by an unimpressed huff. " _Yeah_ , I'm not an idiot. Well, I didn't do the shoe thing, since it's muddy out there and I didn't want to make my socks gross, but I tried tossing a rock at it and stuff. The ball's really stuck."

“I see." Daichi continued to ponder. "How high is it?"

“I don't know. It’s not like I measured it or anything. Maybe a little less than two volleyball nets high?”

Daichi nodded. That wasn't as bad as he had feared. "So about four meters." 

"I guess.”

Now that he had a good visual of the situation in his head, the answer seemed clear to Daichi. He grabbed one of the long-handled brooms that stood leaning into a corner behind him, unscrewed the wooden handle from its shaggy base, and extended it out to Kageyama. "Alright, problem solved. You can borrow this for a few minutes and use it to poke the ball out of the branches. Take another volleyball too; it might come in handy if that doesn't end up being long enough."

Following his orders, Kageyama took a step forward towards the volleyball cart, and like a flash of lightening Daichi realized the mistake that he had made. If Kageyama got any closer, there was a chance that he could catch a glimpse of Suga's hiding spot. 

“No! Wait, I'll get one for you!"

In one frantic, spasm, he grabbed a ball from the cart and hurled it in the first year's general direction. Predictably, the ball was too fast and too high for Kageyama to intercept, and the two of them watched helplessly as it zoomed out the door and into the gym. 

The classic Kageyama wrinkle appeared between the first year's eyebrows. "What was _that_?" 

"Ah... sorry."

Daichi rubbed at the back of his neck nervously, too stressed to notice that he had never heard the sound of the ball hit the ground out in the gym. He was therefore scared witless when Hinata leapt into the closet a second later, the errant volleyball tucked beneath his arm. “Sugawara-saaaan!"

He landed next to Kageyama in the doorway, counterbalancing his teammate's pervasive grump with a toothy smile. Kageyama tched and took a step away. “Too close."

Hinata just laughed and took a step of his own, closing the gap between them back up again. "Whatever, grumpy-yama."

Despite the perilous situation he was in, Daichi couldn't help but smile to himself. It was good to see the two getting along. However, he would have preferred for them to be getting along someplace _else_ , like in the clubroom or outside or anywhere not within a 20-meter radius of their half-naked vice captain. "If you're looking for Suga, he's not here yet. Sorry."

Hinata, lost in his own little world of being a pain in the butt, jumped at the intrusion. "Oh! You're not him! Haha, I guess I just assumed, since I came in and heard this guy here-" he indicated Kageyama by elbowing him in the chest. Kageyama did not seem appreciative. "-talking about his problems and stuff. Normally he only does that with mom."

Daichi frowned. "Mom?" 

Some movement in his periphery caught his eye, and he looked over to see his boyfriend's whole upper body spasming slightly, his hand pressed against his mouth. He was either crying or laughing, and it concerned Daichi a little bit, that he couldn't immediately figure out which was the case. 

After a second or two, Suga looked up, and Daichi could positively identify that there was a smile on his face. And as usual when Suga smiled, it made Daichi feel like smiling too. Even if he didn't quite get the joke. 

Meanwhile, Kageyama had delivered Hinata a quick kick to the calf. "Don't _call_ him that!" he muttered. "Jeez, so rude."

"But it's true! He's always really calm and nice and helpful, and doesn’t make fun of us even if our problems are really stupid…"

“Well even if it's true, you shouldn't just come right out and say it! A lot of true things are also rude, like for example if I called you a hyperactive shorty who can't serve for shit-"

"Hey!"

"Okay, guys, cut it out," Daichi said. And, since he couldn't resist taking a cheap shot at his boyfriend when he wasn't able to defend himself, he continued: "Suga's not your mom; he's just a normal high school guy who likes tricking people into thinking he's a good person. If you knew him half as well as I do, you wouldn't be drawn in by his lies.“

"Ooh, papa's mad now," Hinata whispered loudly to Kageyama. 

At this point, Suga was almost shaking hard enough to vibrate the stack of boxes that screened him from view, and Daichi could feel a blush rising on his own face, and so he figured it was a good as time as ever to change the subject. 

" _Alright then_ ," he said, voice almost a shout. "Alright. Kageyama, is there anything else you need from me?"

The first year shook his head. 

"And Hinata. Is there anything that _you_ need from me?"

And immediately, he kicked himself for asking that question. Because of _course_ Hinata had something that he needed from him.

"Well, I had been meaning to ask Suga-senpai about it, but since he's not here, maybe you can take a look.”

Suddenly, a hunk of orange fabric was flopping its way through the air towards him. He was just barely able to catch it before it hit him the face. 

"Is that your _jersey_?" Kageyama guessed, eyes following the object on its trajectory towards Daichi. "Don't just throw your gross clothes at people, dumbass!”

"It's clean! I promise!" Hinata assured them quickly. “Well, except for…you know, that part on the front… ah, I guess I'll just start from the beginning..."

With a preamble as vague and ominous as the one that Hinata had just uttered, Daichi really didn’t have any expectations that the rest of the explanation would make sense. But to his amazement, somehow it still managed to go downhill from there. 

The first year proceeded to explain the problem, how sometimes, on the rare days when they didn't have practice or a game or anything, he found himself missing volleyball so much that he would wear his jersey and kneepads while lounging around in his house. Normally, like ninety-nine times out of a hundred, just the act of putting on his uniform made him feel happy again, and he could focus on things like homework and chores without feeling too down. But of course this meant that, the other one percent of the time, this coping mechanism just made matters worse. Like for example, _hypothetically_ , his little sister could throw an extra-syrupy pancake at him as a part of some inscrutable kindergarten breakfast ritual, making his jersey really gross and gooey, and even though he _hypothetically_ put it through the washing machine and scrubbed it with their best scrubber and literally bathed it in his tears he couldn't get it back to how it had been before...

As Hinata continued to ramble, Daichi looked tentatively down at the crumpled up jersey in his hands, spreading it out a little so that he could see the extent of the damage. Sure enough, a faded brownish stain could be seen smushed across the front, tufted in places with dust and bits of hair, a testament to its lingering stickiness.

Kageyama snorted. "Natsu 'hypothetically' threw a pancake at you? Hinata, that is clearly maple syrup. Do you even know what 'hypothetical' means?"

The other first year crossed his arms. "Of course I know what it _means_ , I was just trying to... I don't know, break it to the captain gently?" He looked back over at Daichi, and the shirt that continued to draw all the rest of their eyes. It was almost mesmerizing in its grossness. "So, what should I do? I don’t think I can wear it like that."

Daichi finally managed to tear his gaze away from the jersey. "Ah, don't... don't worry about it, we'll figure something out." His eyes flicked over to Suga, begging silently for wisdom. 

But his boyfriend just shrugged his shoulders, and Daichi knew that at once that all was lost. He'd learned from long experience that problems Suga couldn’t solve usually ended up not having solutions at all. He wondered how long it would take to order a new uniform, and whether they had any spares that would fit somebody of Hinata’s unique height in the meantime. Maybe the girl's team had some that would fit better...

And then, like a flash of light, he remembered an incident from the previous year, an incident involving Michimiya and her jersey and a spilled container of honey lemons.

"White vinegar,” Daichi heard himself saying. He almost felt surprised at the confidence in his own voice. "You need to scrub it with a little bit of that, and then rinse it out, and then put it in the washing machine again."

This suggestion was met with silence from the rest of the closet. Kageyama and (unbeknownst to the two first years) Suga were staring at Daichi as if he'd grown a second head, while Hinata's eyes widened.

"Waah, are you serious? It's that easy?" the shorter first year said, voice bubbling like a soda that was just a little too carbonated. 

Daichi shrugged and tossed the jersey back to Hinata. Unlike the earlier debacle with the volleyball, this time he hit the mark squarely. "It might not be a great solution because the stain's so bad, and because the jersey’s so colorful. But something like this happened to one of my friends once, and that worked for her. Can’t hurt to give it a shot.”

"Yeah, I guess that it's already messed enough that it can't get any worse," Hinata agreed. "But wow, captain, I really didn't think that you would know about this kind of stuff! Not that I _doubted_ you or anything!" he hastily amended, waving his arms in front of him as if in self defense. "But even my _mom_ didn't know how to clean it. You're so cool; you're like a genius or something!”

Daichi didn’t know how to respond to this. So it was lucky, he guessed, that a new voice cut him off before he got a chance to talk. 

“How _could_ you, Shouyou? You’ve got two perfectly good senpai right here; I thought that wewere the guys you went to when you needed help with stuff.” 

“Yeah, have we ever let you down before? Like that time when the vending machine ate your money, or when that clown from the basketball team said that volleyball was a girly sport-” 

“Ah!” Hinata jumped, whipping his head around to see two visibly betrayed second years. “No, Tanaka-senpai, Noya-senpai, you’ve got it wrong! Of course I appreciate you guys, it’s just that the captain was the only one here and I thought-“

“He just thought he’d get his laundry advice from someone who _doesn’t_ have robust microbial ecosystems growing on their clothing.”

Aaand there was Tsukishima, right on cue. Yamaguchi too, if the little snigger that followed that statement was anything to go by, and Daichi couldn’t even find it in him to be surprised anymore at how rapidly the situation was deteriorating.

Anything that could possibly have gone wrong that afternoon had already done so. Suga was still just sitting half-naked behind an increasingly flimsy-appearing barricade, the number of people crammed into this tiny closet right now was a blatant violation of the fire code, and now, like a cherry on top of this massive slice of shit cake, Daichi saw Tsukishima’s eyes trail to Suga’s discarded t-shirt, still lying in a crumpled pile by the wall, and saw his mouth twitch into a little smirk, and holy shit he had _figured it all out._

He couldn’t tell if it was Tsukishima’s eyes that were glinting right then or his glasses. But in the end, it didn’t matter. Because in either case the pair of them, him and Suga, were well and truly screwed.

Although the second years and Hinata were kicking up a loud fuss in retaliation to what Tsukishima just said, Daichi found that he couldn’t hear a word they were saying. He was too busy dissecting the sly little smile on the blonde first year’s face, and the way that his gaze, which had started roving around the closet searchingly a few seconds earlier, had zeroed in on the back of Suga’s hiding place. “We should probably set up for practice now, don’t you think, captain?” the first year said, speaking slowly and clearly, a display of some kind of sadistic showmanship. Daichi felt heat rise into his face. “Here, I’ll even help you with the net.”

Tsukishima took a step forward.

It was one step too far. 

With a growl worthy of a cornered animal, Daichi launched himself forward, forcing the group to take a collective hop back. “Okay, everyone out- _now!”_ he belted out. _“_ Warmup today is ten laps around the school. If anyone’s still in this gym after thirty seconds, that number gets doubled. _Do I make myself clear?_ ”

A chorus of “yes, captain!”s rose from the crowd, followed by a clatter as his teammates bid a hasty retreat. Within seconds, the supply closet was empty again, save for Daichi and his very red-faced and still intermittently giggling boyfriend.

Daichi went over and shut the closet door, this time being sure to lock it. “Alright, I think they’re all gone. You can come out now.”

A mop of silvery hair poked out from behind the volleyball net, followed by a pair of brown eyes. Once satisfied that the coast was clear, Suga crawled out from his hiding place and grabbed his shirt. He pulled it on firmly, as if he never wanted to take it off again. “Thank god. I thought that they would never leave.”

“Me neither,” Daichi said, crossing the room to take a seat next to his boyfriend. “That was close.”

For a moment, the pair of them sagged against the wall, breathing as heavily as if they had just run a marathon. “Are they always like that?” Daichi wondered, after the pair had recovered a little. “All… demanding, and stuff?”

Suga laughed. “Like _that_? Nah, today was pretty tame. You should hear it when they come to me for advice on their love lives, though.”

“Those guys have _love lives_?” Daichi shook his head. “I don’t believe it. They’re too immature.”

“Spoken like a true overprotective father.”

He shot his boyfriend a look that would shrivel lemons. “Shut it, you.”

But of course Suga was incapable of “shutting it”, and so he continued. “Although, I have to admit, you played a pretty convincing team mom today. I don’t think that I could have done any better. That thing about the vinegar, is that true?”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Daichi grumbled.

“I’d just never heard about anything like-“

“I swear to god, Suga _._ ”

Suga bumped his elbow against Daichi’s, a casual gesture that his boyfriend nonetheless managed to transform into an intimate one. “I’m not making fun of you or anything,” he said, voice softer than it had been. “I know it’s not easy, having everyone look to you for answers like that.” 

“ _You_ do it every day,” Daichi pointed out.

“And it’s hard, every day,” Suga replied. He looked over at Daichi, a small smile in his face. “But at the same time… it’s kind of fun, isn’t it? Especially when we get to work together to do it.”

It was another one of those dangerous Suga faces, the kind that turned Daichi’s insides to mush and made it kind of hard to breathe. Up against such an unassailable opponent, the only wise course of action was to retreat. 

“Okay. _Okay,”_ Daichi grunted, pushing himself off the ground. _“_ We’ve wasted enough time here. Come on, let’s go catch up with the others.”

Suga reluctantly followed suit, scrunching his nose as he patted the dust off of his shorts. “Alright, _dad._ Just give me a second to straighten up.”

“And don’t call me ‘dad’!” 

“What, I can’t call you that, but Hinata gets to?” Suga laughed. “That’s a double-standard right there, Daichi.”

“ _He_ doesn’t get to either. But it’s especially creepy when it’s you. You know, considering.”

Suga thought about it for a moment. “Hmm, I guess that’s fair. But what do I call you instead? If we were a traditional, nuclear volleyball family, I suppose I would call you ‘husband’. That sounds too formal, though. What about ‘hubby'? Or ‘sweetheart’? Or… I don’t know, ‘smoochie-poo’-“

“Just ‘Daichi’ is fine!” he growled. “Now get your damn shoes on before I divorce you!”

“Alright, darling.”

“I mean it!”

Continuing to bicker, they trotted out to join the rest of their little family.

 

There had been a lot of things on Sawamura Daichi’s to-do list for that rainy Monday. And even though becoming both a mother and a father at the tender age of seventeen had not been one of them, he wasn’t as worried as he might have been. Because knew that Suga was around to exasperate and support him every step of the way. 

**Author's Note:**

> So yeah, it should be obvious by this point that I don't normally write for Haikyuu and I have no idea what I'm doing. But try as I might, I couldn't get this plot bunny (lol, do people still even use that term, or am I showing my age here?) out of my head, so here we are. Hope you enjoyed!


End file.
